Feathers
by Brissi
Summary: Eli Barton, student at Blue Valley High, and captain of the track team, leads a normal, ordinary life. That is, until his mother leaves on a business trip and sends him to live with his estranged aunt and uncle in Casper, Wyoming. Uprooted from everything he's ever known, Eli discovers a hidden world that his family has been a part of for centuries. T just to be sure, some cussing


"Rounding the last turn, the two boys are neck and neck, sprinting for the finish! It's Ray, no it's Barton, back to Ray! Uh oh, Barton's lagging behind with just a hundred yards to go, can he make it?! Oh, I don't believe it! Barton's found some extra energy there, he passes Ray, he's a couple strides ahead, Ray trying desperately to catch up. Not today, Barton's holding his own aaaaaaannnddd it's Barton! Eli Barton has won the City Championships! It's on to States for the Pythons! The whole team is celebrating! I think we have a very promising young runner he-"

"Eli!"

I jumped, startled out of my daydream by my mom's voice coming down the hallway. I frowned and considered ignoring her. I was busy winning the City Championships.

"Eli Barton!"

I huffed and got up from the bare mattress that had been my bed for fifteen years, until now. I stalked over to the door, stomping slightly, and yanked it open, glaring down the hallway at my mother, who had an enormous box full of golfing crap in her arms. I don't know why she kept it; if Dad wanted it he should have taken it with him when he left us. If it were up to me I'd have burned it all a long time ago, and loved every pop and hiss. But Mom insisted on keeping it. Mothers.

"What?!" I snapped, trying to maintain my sullen gaze, which, by the way, is near impossible. Climbing Everest is probably easier than staying mad at my mom. Your best chance is to get out of the room before she can say anything and lock yourself in a soundproof room.

Anyway, back to the hallway. My mom gave me a sympathetic smile, nearly shattering my foul mood, and shifted the box so she could get a better grip on it. God forbid it all went crashing down the stairs.

"Eli, I know you're upset, but you've got to give this a chan- Eli Barton!"

"What?" I asked, my voice dripping with innocence, like I hadn't just flipped her the finger behind my back and rolled my eyes.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me."

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me," I mimicked in a high voice.

My mom's expression grew stormy and suddenly it was much easier to be mad at her. She moved to set the box down, then stopped and sighed, her face becoming wistful and a tiny bit apologetic. Crap.

"I know this is hard for you, Eli, I really do," she said,"But I really think this can work. It's only for a year or two."

"Yeah, and by that time, I'll be going to college, all my friends will be too, and I won't ever get to see them again!" I nearly shouted. "Why do you have to wreck everything? We could have gone to States, but you just had to take your stupid 'business trip' with your stupid boyfriend, and leave me here to deal with it while your off getting drunk in a strip club. Thanks, Mom. Great parenting."

A tense, angry silence filled the air, during which I blinked back tears and my mom set down the box and sat down on the top stair. She patted the steps beside her, but I stayed in the doorway of my old room, arms crossed. When she spoke again, I could hear tears in her voice.

"I don't want to leave you all alone, Eli. But sometimes in life, things don't work out."

"Yeah, how many times have I heard _that_ line before?"

"Kids aren't allowed on the plane, or the hotel. And the company is paying for everything. You know I can't afford to stay in a completely different hotel, take a completely separate flight, or any of those things. This is the only way."

"You could maybe, hey, not go!"

"It's required by the company. I've told you that."

"Quit."

"You know how hard it is to find jobs these days. I can't quit, unless you want to starve."

"Sounds perfect."

"Eli!"

I sighed and moved to slam my door, because I could feel my angry façade slipping and I didn't want her to see me cry.

"Will you bring the boxes in your room down to the car?" my mom asked, although it wasn't really a question.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I muttered, shutting the door before she could ask me to do something else, like stapling my tongue to the floor. Actually, if that kept me here, I'd take it. I looked around for a stapler, but it was already packed. Crap. I flopped back down on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, which was strangely blurry.

"Need to get my eyes checked," I muttered, rubbing the back of my hand across my face, which came away wet.

I looked over at the one thing I hadn't packed yet: my photo of Val. Valerie King: red hair, green eyes, freckles, super hot, sexy, super nice, always fun, athletic (score), will try anything, loyal, awesome… I could go on forever. She was also my girlfriend of three years, since 8th grade. I'd met her at 8th grade prom (yes, my school had a prom in 8th grade. Laugh and be done with it) and I'd spent all night getting up the courage to ask her to dance. Normally, I wouldn't have had a problem with it. I'm not what you would call a shy guy. It was just, she'd come with Jason Aris, who had a bad habit of beating people up and claiming they got hit by a bus instead. Why did no one ever thing otherwise? It actually looked like they got hit by a bus. Scary, huh. Well, it was the last slow song, and it was now or never (or at least until high school prom, but who wanted to wait that long). I made sure Jason was occupied, AKA in the bathroom, and walked up to her. She had been standing with a bunch of her friends, laughing about some poor nerd who'd tried to impress them with his break dancing skills. I still laugh when I think about, just not now, when I'm about to leave the only house I've ever known. Val had on this long, glittery green dress that swept the floor, with no back to it, and it made her look gorgeous. Of course, she looked good in anything, but that's beside the point. When she and her friends noticed me, they all stopped talking and stared. One of them was Ashley Vera, who'd had a small (huge) crush on me since 2nd grade, and she was always following me around school. "May I?" I asked, smiling my infamous 'bad boy' grin, and holding out my hand. Towards Val of course. I remember she blushed and it made me want to sing. "Um, yeah!" she laughed, taking my hand and stepping away from her friends. The look on Ashley's face was priceless -not that I wanted to make her jealous or anything, but it was funny. I swept Val out onto the dance floor (basketball court) and she put her head on my shoulder. We swayed back and forth, and I could feel the eyes on us. I didn't care. The song ended all too soon, but we didn't stop. I'd silently thanked my mom for all those dumb ballroom dancing classes she'd put me through and just picked up the tempo. I lost track of the time, and the next thing I knew, I was lying flat on the gym floor, blood gushing from my nose, totally ruining the tux my mom had rented for me, staring up at Jason, fresh from the bathroom and looking like he needed a chill pill or two. "What are you doing, you little creep?" he screamed, and I can still remember the way the veins in his neck stood out. It was pretty freaking awesome. I shrugged, nonchalant, like I got punched in the face every day, and grinned. "Dancing with a girl, what're you doing? Having a heart attack, by the looks of it." Which only made his face get redder and I was truly afraid he was gonna blow a vein or something. "You were dancing with my date!" he yelled, spittle flying (ew). I could see Val standing off to the side, glaring disgustedly at Jason, and she flashed me a concerned glance. I got to my feet, but I still only came up to Jason's shoulder, and the smell coming off of him smelled… well, I don't even know how to describe it. I don't think the guy ever took a shower in his lifetime though. I made a show of gagging, drawing a couple nervous laughs from the crowd that had grown around us. Jason was famous for his 'manly' odor, which, we suspected, could wipe out a country if we loaded it into little bombs and dropped them from a plane. "It was the humane thing to do," I said, waving a hand in front of my nose. "Oh my god, what is that?" Just then, the teachers seemed to suddenly realize that the mob in the center of the gym wasn't some break dancing mob, but a fight about to go off. "Hey, back up, let me through!" "Move it, kids." "Dance over." I ducked into the crowd, who willingly shuffled me along, away from the teacher. "Young man, what's going on?" Ha. Jason got busted. Must have been my nose blood on his tux that gave him away. I weaved through the students, a couple giving me a pat of my shoulder, and slipped out into the chilly, night air. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see Valerie King, in all her hotness, standing there under the glow of the gym lights. "Sorry about the nose," she said, smiling apologetically. I shrugged. "I've had worse," I said casually. She laughed softly and offered me a tissue, which I took and began dabbing at my face. I must have been doing a pretty crappy job, because she laughed, louder this time, and took it back, and I stood still while she cleaned the blood off my face. Romantic, right? "Looks like it's stopped bleeding," she said softly, eyes fixed on my face. Her hand dropped and her eyes moved up to meet my eyes. "I never noticed how amazing your eyes are," she whispered. "Sometimes they're brown, sometimes you can't even tell whether they're brown or black." And just like that, she leaned forward kissed me, bloody nose and all. It wasn't one of those kisses you see in the movies, where they try as hard as they can to mush their faces together. It was soft, curious, exactly like a first kiss should be. It only lasted a couple seconds, but it was the best moment of my life. I drove her home after a while, because I sure as hell wasn't letting Jason take her away. She kissed me again, right before she got out of the car, and smiled at me. "Bye," she whispered. "School's gonna be fun tomorrow, huh." I laughed, nodding. "My mom's gonna kill me for this," I whispered back, and she smiled, then walked up the sidewalk to her front door. I think I forgot to mention that Valerie King is rich. Not like snobby rich, but her daddy lived a nice life, and so did she. An underling opened the door for her and she turned to wave goodbye before disappearing into her house (mansion).

"Eli, time to go."

I realized I was crying, I mean really crying. As in, sobbing, hiccups, drenching the mattress, all that.

"God, I'll miss you, Val."

We'd broken up yesterday, but it had been mutual. I didn't want to trap her in a long distance thing, but I knew there was no getting over her.

"Eli."

I threw something heavy at the door.

"You're going to miss your plane."

"Fucking tragedy," I muttered, then instantly regretted it. Val hated it when I said anything worse than hell. "Sorry, Val."

She also hated it when I moped. So I rolled off the mattress and wiped my eyes with the inside of my sleeve, where hopefully no one could see the wet mark. I sighed and looked around my room for the last time, and had to refrain from breaking down and crying again. No crying, no moping, no cussing. I lived a hard life.

"Hon?"

My mom eased the door open and peeked in, and my eyes must have been red, because she rushed in and wrapped her arms around me. I did the same, too tired of being mad at her to try.

"I really am sorry, Eli," she murmured into my shirt, and I guess I believed her.

After a couple minutes, she back out of the hug and looked up at me. I'd been taller than her since middle school, but she'd never minded.

"I love you, Eli."

"Love you, Mom."

"We really have to go now. Your plane leaves in half an hour and it takes fifteen minutes just to get there, not to mention going through security."

I didn't answer and went to get the photo of Val of my desk. I gently placed it in the suitcase by the door, zipped it closed, and hoisted it into my arms. My mom walked past me to lead the way down the hall, and I followed without looking back. Down the stairs, out the door, and over to the Hybrid parked in our driveway. All Mom's stuff was already in storage, so it was just my stuff that was packed into suitcases and ready to be shipped off. I shoved the suitcase in my arms into the tiny space left in the trunk and slammed it closed. The sound was filled with finality. This was it. I was leaving. I got into the car and stared ahead at the street. My mom got in the driver's side and started the car, then pulled out onto Walnut Creek Drive and hit the gas. She sped a little once we got to the highway, but, of course, there were no cops watching that day (thanks a lot), so we made it to the airport without any incidents. Mom paid for the parking and, once she'd cut the engine, I got out and popped the trunk open. I started pulling suitcases out while Mom went in to get one of those cart things for luggage. She found one quickly (of course) and brought it back to the car, and all my bags barely fit onto it, with no extra space at all. I pushed it across the parking lot, because my mom wasn't what you call the strong type, and the doors to the airport slid open before me. Welcome to the Terminal of Abandonment, Eli. I gave most of my bags to some ugly lady behind the counter, and while she weighed them I checked my phone for new messages. Maybe one from Mom's boss, saying she didn't have to go on a two year long business trip to South America. I had one new message, and my heart throbbed when I looked at the sender. Valerie. _Just… wanted to wish you good luck. I'll miss you. So much. :'( FaceChat me sometime. _God, why did it have to be so hard? _Thanks, I'll miss you too. Maybe you could come visit? _I wrote hates text-speak too. Val texted almost immediately. _Definitely, maybe this summer? _I smiled when Mom wasn't looking and wrote: _Yeah, the whole summer. :) _

"That'll be 145.67," the ugly lady said, smiling, but it looked more like some weird face spazz.

My mom paid Queen of Ugly and I picked up my one carry-on back; the one with Val's picture in it. We walked through the polished, bustling airport, heading for my gate, Gate 2A. About as close as possible. My phone buzzed. _OMG, totally! If my dad says OK. _Her enthusiasm hurt, but in a good way. _Ask him now! _I wrote, then dropped my stuff in a plastic tub and kicked my shoes off. I put the tub on the conveyor belt and stacked my shoes on top, then stepped through the metal detector, which went off immediately. The security guards raced over, but my mom intervened before they could haul me away. That's karma for you.

"No, no, it's okay," she reassured them, shooting me a look. "Here, see."

She offered them the signed note she always kept in her purse that said I had a titanium rod in my leg from when I'd been in a car wreck. Shattered my leg bone and the idiot driving the other car had walked away without a scratch. He'd been drunk of course, but by the time they tested him, he was stone-cold sober. Lucky me. The security guards took the note and held it up to the light like you would a dollar bill. Idiots. After a second, they decided it wasn't forged and handed it back to my mom, waving me through. Once I'd gotten my stuff back and my shoes back on, she grabbed my arm.

"Please don't make this any harder," she pleaded, but I shook her off and stalked off towards my gate.

We got there just as they were about to close the doors (go figure) and I got on board without so much as a wave to my mom. I found my seat, right next to what had to be the world's worst acne case ever. I _think_ it was a dude. I dropped my bag on the floor and nudged it under my seat with my foot, then sat down, jumping as my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, hoping it was Val, but it was Mom. God, that woman was relentless. _Bye sweetie, I'll miss u. _I glared at my phone and blocked her number. I sure as hell wasn't about to answer her. And if I did it wouldn't be anything she wanted to hear. Instead, I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would take me.

"So where are you headed?"

Guess not. I opened my eyes and slowly turned my head to look at my neighbor, who was grinning like an idiot at me.

"Huh?" I answered. Real intelligent, right?

"Where are you going to end up at the end of your journey?"

Oh, dear god, help me not strangle this guy.

"Nowhere I want to be."

"Well, who wants to be dead? I mean, come on."

You following this? Yeah, me neither.

"I have to use the bathroom," I said, not trying to make the lie convincing.

"This is your captain speaking. We will be taking off shortly, so please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

Um, yeah, WHAT THE HELL?

The acne guy bent over and rummaged around in his bag, which he'd kept at his feet, then straightened again, an empty water bottle in his hand.

"You can use this if you want to," he offered.

I was starting to feel a little nauseous. Let's say it was claustrophobia. I moved over one seat so that there was at least a little space between me and this complete lunatic. The plane pulled away from the gate and rumbled across the open space towards the runway, and I prayed desperately that this plane would get off the ground before Acne Man offered me some of his other curious suggestions. My phone buzzed. _Bye sweetie, love u. _WTH? I checked the number; it was my old phone that my mom had apparently kept. I blocked that one too. Val still hadn't texted back, but I told myself I didn't care. The plane picked up speed and I remembered the gum I had in my pocket. I popped a stick into my mouth and stared out the window past Acne Man. Acne Man leaned forward, blocking the window with his painful-to-look-at Hawaiian tourist shirt. Why, oh why? I looked out the other window, on the edge of my seat. There was a little stutter as the plane lingered in between the ground and the sky, and then the ground dropped away, taking my stomach with it. I'd never been a fan of planes, never in my life. It made me jittery just being in one on the ground, and Acne Man really wasn't helping my nerves. Something stroked my hair and I nearly shrieked. I didn't though, but I did smack the guy's hand as hard as I could away from me. There was no way I was sitting in this seat the whole flight. When the plane finally ascended enough and the captain guy said we could get up, I literally leaped out of my seat and sprinted to the bathroom. I couldn't close the door fast enough. My breathing gradually slowed to from desperate heaves to a quiet panting. I still wasn't happy, but I was as happy as I could be sitting in an airplane bathroom, being shipped off to live with some aunt and uncle I'd never met. Which isn't very happy, by the way. My phone buzzed and I checked the sender, which (thank god) wasn't one of my old phones. It was my best friend (besides Val) Charlie Briggs. _U on the plane yet, ma brotha? _Oh my god, Charlie. _Don't ever say that ever again, Charlie. Just don't. And yeah, I'm on the plane. _I set my phone down on the 'counter' and stared at my face in the mirror. Pale, maybe a little sweaty, with a jittery look in my eyes. I looked like a nervous wreck and we hadn't even been flying for ten minutes. How long was the flight? Two and a half hours. God, why do you hate me? I took a deep, supposed-to-be-calming-but-really-isn't breath and ran my fingers through my hair. My phone buzzed, nearly sending me through the roof, and I snatched it up. _Have they put you in a straightjacket yet? _Later, I knew I would laugh at that, but right now I was not in the mood. _Ha, ha. _I wrote, then straightened up, stuffing my phone in my pocket and turning to face the door. I opened the door jerkily and stepped out of the cramped compartment, breathing in the pure (ish) air of the cabin, wasting as much time as I could before I started attracting attention, standing there at the back of the plane right outside the lavatory. Finally, I forced my feet to move and took slow, measured steps back to my seat, where Acne Man was playing Patti cake with the seat in front of him, which was making its occupant kind of angry. I slid into the seat and bent down to rummage in my bag, praying that my stroke of bad luck was over and my dearest neighbor wouldn't notice me or (shudder) talk to me. I found my iPod and slowly sat up, fumbling for my earbuds, and leaned back in my seat. As it powered on, I cracked my knuckles nervously (it's a bad habit of mine) and shifted to get more comfortable. A heavy metal song of Charlie's blasted at top volume into my ears, and I bolted to my feet, smacking my head on the little button with the lady on it that called a flight attendant. Rubbing my head and cursing Charlie, I turned the volume way down cast an uneasy look at Acne Man. Had he finally decided to notice me? Nope, still happily singing away, driving the guy in front of him insane. This had to be his fifteenth round. I sat down again and skipped through the next couple songs until I found one I liked, Distance, and dropped my iPod on my lap. Christina's voice flowed from the earbuds, soothing my injured eardrums (thank you Charlie) and draining the tension out of my muscles. As the plane flew on, coasting at 30,000 feet, I fell into a light, uneasy sleep, and I dreamed about Val and the summer we spent together at Twin Lakes, without a care in the world.


End file.
